


80s Roller Rink AU

by goretier



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: 80s AU, Alternate Universe, M/M, Mutual Pining, Roller Rink AU, Some Plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-11 18:51:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18430010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goretier/pseuds/goretier
Summary: for the most magical prompt I have ever seen on a kink meme:80s Obikin roller rink daddy kink auObi-Wan as owner of a roller rink in a small American town with all those small American town vibesAnakin as jailbait/barely legal slut who frequents the rink just to get in his pants





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is absolutely the dumbest shit I've ever written. I've got it all outlined and these are true 0 brain cell hours. I would die for obikin.

Stepping into the Coruscant Skate Temple was something of a religious experience, and everyone in town knew it.

For some people, it was about the lights. There were hundreds, so that was fair. Dozens of neon signs, spotlights on couples and trick-masters, and colored lenses spinning patterns on the floor. A cathedral of lasers, chandeliers of disco balls. Lights dotted the ceiling, burdened the catwalk, and surrounded the walls of the rink. They blinked and rolled in waves, kept pace with the skaters, and found rhythm with the music.

Others thought that was the key – the music. It washed over the gentle background hum of the skates rolling over polished wood, and when your guard was down, it had a funny habit of seeping into your bones. Even the most reserved of pilgrims visiting the Temple found themselves tapping a finger. It was the 80s, after all. Music hadn’t been this good in decades, no matter what Qui-Gon personally believed about Jimmy Buffet’s early career.

For Obi-Wan, though, the true religious experience the Temple provided him with was a deep sense of peace, of purpose, of presence. He could feel it everywhere. It was in the garish space-themed carpet that surrounded the rink, suspiciously similar to the Coruscant Bowling Alley’s pattern next door. It was in the snack counter with rows of hotdogs and columns of paper cups for Coke products. It was in the penny arcade with Plinko machines, unbeatable PAC-MAN high scores, and fistfuls of tickets passed between eager hands.

“You will find only what you bring in.” Qui-Gon would quote sagely from his seat in the office as he penned numbers into the books and watched his creation grow.

And that was probably the truth of it.

Obi-Wan liked to arrive around noon on Fridays. It was something Qui-Gon had done when he was alive – Friday afternoon was his time to tend to the books, to plan contests, to settle schedules. Though Obi-Wan never imagined himself as the managing type when he was younger, the numbers were steady in his care, and that was all he could ask for. The Temple got along fine under him, just as it had under Qui-Gon.

And so, another Friday afternoon breezed by under Ob-Wan’s watchful and particular eyes. Paperwork and paper cups, coffee spills and bills. Ticket sales were rising, heralding summer had arrived at last. Long days and pleasant nights – it was time to bump the Temple’s hours up.

Obi-Wan emerged from the office just as the Temple was waking up. The floor guards had already laced up and were taking slow turns around the rink. The cooks at the snack bar were warming up the grills. The arcade was alive, blistering with noise from the far corner, vying for attention before it was smothered by the first smooth synth chord of the evening.

It was six in the afternoon, and already a crowd had gathered at the entrance. Obi-Wan smiled at them, and checked over his shoulder at the ticket booth, before pulling out his keys and unlocking the door.

Stepping aside, he watched as teenagers flooded in and made for the ticket booth, already laughing and eager and infectious with their energy, and the lights in front of them reflecting in their eyes seemed to brighten with anticipation of another night spent in good company and in good fun.

Obi-Wan skirted around the crowd and ran a hand through his hair, smiling at his guests and employees alike as he made his way to the skate rental counter, where he typically spent his time during the open hours at the Temple.

The lacquered wood was smooth under his hand like he’d always known it to be, and Obi-Wan pulled a worn cloth out from under the counter and turned to face the rows of rental skates while whistling something happy to himself.

That sense of peace had settled in his head, and Obi-Wan smiled. He always did like Friday nights the best.

\--

It was nine o’clock by the time Anakin hopped the back fence surrounding the parking lot of the Coruscant Skate Temple. His shoes hit cracked asphalt dotted here and there with weeds, and the broken glass at his feet sparkled like starlight over their tar black backdrop.

“The Help Wanted sign is still in the window.” Ahsoka reminded him as she vaulted the fence after him, sticking her landing too before turning to trek across the lot. It seemed like cars were stuffed in every space, and whatever room was left was taken up by bodies. The pair of friends bobbed and weaved through the lot between cars rocking on their wheels to the rhythm of either sex or rock and roll, and groups of teenagers passing bottles and cigarettes and joints between them just as freely as gossip.

“That’s because Windu left.” Anakin reminded her as he kicked a chunk of asphalt by his feet to her. They passed it between themselves as they skirted around one car particularly foggy in the windows. “He doesn’t need a ticket boy. That was a managerial position.”

“So?” Ahsoka said, ditching their sport to come close enough to pinch Anakin’s arm through his jacket. “He’ll promote a floor guard.”

“It’s different than that. Windu was a partner, back from Qui-Gon’s time.”

Ahsoka shrugged, and reached out to run the tips of her fingers along the wall as they made their way up the side of the building towards the front entrance.

“Kids can do managerial work. Besides, he has some older ones working. I’m sure they could handle it.”

Anakin sighed, and they rounded the corner to the entrance to the Coruscant Skate Temple together. The sidewalk in front of the doors was bright with the light that the Temple was overflowing with, and muffled music bumped through the glass entryway like a heartbeat. Sure enough, the Help Wanted sign sat there in the right-hand corner, like it had been for two weeks, hidden amongst contest details and skating lesson flyers.

Ahsoka’s pointed stare was not lost to Anakin as they walked through into the Temple.

The neon lights lit up the floor and sprayed across the disco ball glittering at the ceiling. Rows of white lights flashed in lines around the rim of the rink, keeping pace with some of the faster skaters, and stage lights danced over their heads to throw patterns on the polished floor. The DJ booth, tucked up above the rink in the back left corner of the building, flooded the floor with the spotlight and picked out couples holding hands or lone skaters testing their best tricks. And – Anakin darted his eyes to the side with a little lurch in his stomach – Obi-Wan was standing behind the counter passing out rental skates with a smile, like always.

While he was gawking, Ahsoka walked up to the ticket counter and passed over three dollars with a smile.

“Just one this time, please. Anakin still owes me twenty dollars.”

Behind the counter, Padme laughed, bright and beautiful, and reached out to mark Ahsoka’s hand. “Doesn’t he owe me twenty too? Besides, I swore he said he’d pay for you this time! You shouldn’t let him slide so often.”

Anakin rolled his eyes and walked up to the counter to slam three dollars down in front of his friend. Padme giggled and collected his money before beckoning for his hand, too.

“Sorry I’m the only unemployed one here.” He said, watching carefully to make sure Padme didn’t draw a penis on the back of his hand like she threatened to do every once in a while.

“I told you to apply.” She said, nodding to the windows behind them while doodling tonight’s pass across his skin. It looked like a pair of wings bordering a shining light. Kind of pretty. “Obi-Wan just rejected two more today. It seems like he’s waiting for someone.”

“Who’d he reject?” Anakin asked, watching her draw the center line up to his wrist. “Other high schoolers?”

“I didn’t know them personally, but they looked like seniors. Probably looking for a summer gig, but rumor has it Obi-Wan wants someone who will hang around for a couple years. He’s getting picky in his old age.” 

Anakin would have rolled his eyes if he weren’t suddenly very interested in looking in Obi-Wan’s direction. Old age his ass, the general manager looked like he was _maybe_ thirty, and mostly because of his beard, which _was_ very full, and quite handsome on him…

“Do you have copies of the application?” Ahsoka asked, pulling Anakin out of his daydream and back to the present.

Padme shook her head and ushered them to the side as she beckoned the next guest forward with a smile.

“It’s just an interview. Very casual. He’ll probably even recognize you since you’re a regular, Anakin – you can even go now, if you want. I think someone’s working the counter with him today.”

Anakin pressed his lips together and looked back over to watch as Obi-Wan organized the rows of skates behind him. The shirt he had on today was a little tight on him, and he let his eyes slide down the smooth plane of his back as he bit his bottom lip.

“Maybe later tonight.”

Beside him, Ahsoka groaned and slumped down on herself in exhaustion.

“Padme, do you hear this?! I got it all the way here, and he still won’t bite!”

Anakin rolled his eyes and shoved her towards the rink without any venom. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t, I just mean I’ll think about it! Relax, Snips! We still have all night!”

\--

Behind the skate rental counter, Obi-Wan ran a hand through his hair. Hours after sunset and the whole place was still packed. The arcade was firing off sound almost loud enough to drown out the music on this side of the building, and the snack bar was rolling out a noxious conglomerate of all kinds of fast food smells.

It was lucky he was so used to such things – but then again, ten years at a roller rink huffing burger grease every night could dull the nose, he supposed.

The girl working the counter to his left leaned over the polished wood to whisper into her friend’s ear. They tittered between themselves for a moment, glancing to the rink behind them as some hotshot busted out a new turn for their adoring eyes.

Ah, to be young again. Not that thirty-five was old by many standards at all, he reminded himself lightly as he turned from their gossip to face the wall behind him. Obi-Wan picked up a pair of skates and busied himself with re-lacing them, and absently moved to lean back against the wall and watch the crowd swell and roll on the rink before him.

Familiar faces made up more than half the crowd. He certainly didn’t know all of their names, but many of the regulars here had been coming since Qui-Gon was head manager, and their dedication was enough to win a spot of affection in his heart. Some of them he had known for years – he could pick them out as they floated around the floor clutching friends and howling with laughter. Others were new, patrons for perhaps the last few seasons. There was a college nearby, and they might be freshmen, eager to shake off the stresses of exams and enjoy a night out.

He liked to think that was what the young man with the shoulder-length dark, curly hair was doing. Obi-Wan’s fingers had stilled on the skates he was lacing, and not for the first time. It was mesmerizing. This young man had been coming in most weekend nights the past few months, and Obi-Wan never tired of watching him. He was blissfully unaware of the attention he earned himself from every pair of eyes in the Temple.

He coasted around on the floor like he had been skating his whole life, outclassing everyone with a natural grace that flowed from his motions like honey. His dark clothes tended to make him more obvious in the garish glitter and glam of the atmosphere, but there was never anything reserved about his expressions, especially when in the company of his friends. He was handsome. Fine features, strong build. A whisper of strength in his motions that often heated Obi-Wan’s gut, and each time he recognized it, he cleared his throat and turned back around to face the wall and pick up a different pair of skates with a sigh, because this was truly starting to get out of hand.

His ticket girl, Padme, told him once the young man’s name was Anakin. Padme was a sophomore in college studying international relations, and they had chatted more than several times about the material she was studying. He often watched her seek Anakin out on her breaks to chat, and he figured they shared at least some classes together at the local university. It wouldn’t do to get too attached to certain customers, especially if they were perhaps the object of affection of one of his employees.

Well, that was at least what he told himself. No matter that he skipped his own breaks to avoid bumping in to the young man himself for fear of seeing his flushed face up close for once. No, that was better left at a distance, at arm’s length, where he could safely study and imagine, daydream on his own. It was bad enough he couldn’t keep his eyes off him from the rental counter. It might get him in trouble, soon, and wouldn’t Qui-Gon have gotten a kick out of that?

Of course, when he turned back around to face the rink once more, it was just in time to see Anakin turn his boyish smile onto his friend only to get playfully hip-checked into the wall. Obi-Wan could practically taste his grunt on his tongue, and he was certain Qui-Gon was laughing at him, anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This AU is a big mess so let me do some brief explanation before I confuse everybody. I’m not working hard on sticking to canon at all, and the ages of the side characters are arbitrary because I’m just having fun. 
> 
> Anakin is 17, a junior in high school, and right now Obi-Wan thinks he goes to university with Padme. 
> 
> In this universe, Obi-Wan runs the Coruscant Skate Temple and a bunch of random Jedi work there or have worked there in the past. Good old Palpy and his Sith friends run the Temple’s only competition in Coruscant, a shitty bowling alley right next door. 
> 
> Next chapter is going to be some light exposition to hopefully clear everything up, followed of course by some ust because I’m already impatient.

It used to be that there was no such thing as a night without incident at the Coruscant Skate Temple. Qui-Gon especially had stories for days of fires and floods and fights and frights. According to him, the early years of the business were fraught with street gangs attempting to establish a hold on the rink. 

“As if the Temple could only serve one people.” He would say simply over his mug of coffee, looking at the glass doors that had apparently been broken open more than a handful of times in the early days. 

Obi-Wan would respond with a fond smile, a gentle tip of the head, and silently wonder to himself how prone to exaggeration his mentor could truly be. 

Either way, the Coruscant Skate Temple Obi-Wan inherited was likely as close a place of serenity a teenage hangout could be. Though they could never be fully erased, whatever grudging tensions and abrasive factions existed then had smoothed into something like understanding by the time Obi-Wan joined the organization. These days, the height of drama usually amounted to nothing more than feuds over contest judging, and the only thorn in his side was the manager of the decaying bowling alley next door. Such was life in a small town, he supposed.  

Still, it paid to keep an eye out. Kids had a habit of getting into trouble, and on occasion it could spill into the Temple’s walls. In fact, the occasional need for intervention was the majority of the reason as to why Obi-Wan stayed at the rental counter. He could keep an eye on the moving parts in front of him, tell his employees where to step in, prompt them to dispel tension, keep the peace, preserve the quiet. Almost like a general with his trusted soldiers at hand; though, of course, he still had to hop the counter himself more times than he cared to count. 

And he had the sneaking suspicion that tonight would be added to that total. 

Obi-Wan passed his gaze over the rink, to the snack bar, into the arcade, and noticed with a small sigh that he could see signs of conflict brewing. He of course knew several trouble makers by name, and today he could see one in particular standing with stiff shoulders and a dark, purposeful scowl. His eyes tracked over the rink purposefully like a cat watching a shadow. It was easy to follow his gazes and see his target, and Obi-Wan took note with a frown. 

And then, as if sensing his window of opportunity was closing, the young man broke off from his position by the arcade and started shoving through the crowd.

“Miss Depa, kindly take over.” Obi-Wan said to the staff member by his side as he excused himself from the counter and began to make his way over to intervene. 

Across the floor, their argument began. 

—

“Graduating early is in my best interest, Snips, I’m not sure why you’re against me here.” Anakin said, pushing his sweat-soaked bangs out of his face and smiling at his friend. His curls bounced right back in front of his eyes of course, obscuring the top of the scar that cut across his eye.

“I just think it’s awfully rude of you to leave me alone in high school to fend for myself. I think you keep forgetting I’m just a Sophomore.” She took a turn on the floor, all grace and good manners as she stuck her tongue out at him pointedly.

“You know... that’s fair. I do like to forget you’re younger than me.” Anakin said with a fond smile, twisting past her and skating backwards as he reached for her hand. She took it with a smile and a knowing lift in her brow, and let him pick her up off the floor for a beat.

“Someday I’m going to fly away from this place.” Anakin said with a hum, setting her back down and turning his smile across the floor. The lights radiated bright across his face, and Ahsoka saw the way his eyes carried that firm and resolute grit under his daydreaming daze that made him who he was. In another world, in another life, in another galaxy far, far away, Anakin might be a force to reckon with. 

“When you do get out of here, Skyguy, I’ll be sure to catch up with you when you least expect it.” She said, wrapping herself around his arm to pull him in the direction of the rink exit. “You’ll definitely know it when I do. I’ll swing in when you’re stuck in some big mess, save the day, all that jazz. Like I usually do.” 

And so the pair wove their way through the crowd and tumbled out of the rink, laughing and teasing, already fighting over who was going to pay for the fries. Carefree as they were, they hardly noticed the ambush awaiting them impatiently. Anakin was just in the middle of a particularly beseeching groan when a hand shot out and landed square in his chest, pushing him back half a step. He stumbled on his skates and gripped the hand in his shirt with a surprised snarl before Ahsoka steadied him so they could square up to their antagonist. 

Maul’s answering scoff burned bright and hot under the red neon flashing on his face. Anakin wrenched the offending hand off his shirt and shoved it away, seeing red himself as he met his glare. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Anakin asked, all hot blood and cold eyes. He’d seen this guy around before, sure, but really, what the fuck was this about?

“Palpatine did warn me you weren’t too bright, Anakin, but I did assume you would at least know my name.” Maul said, glancing at Ahsoka to Anakin’s side to size her up, as well. He kept his hands to himself for the moment and busied them with finding a cigarette to light. A small crowd had gathered around them in the meantime, and curious eyes traveled between their standoff quickly. 

“Who the fuck is Palpatine?” Ahsoka snapped, darting a hand out to snatch the cigarette from Maul’s hand before he could even take his first drag. She flicked it away with the air of someone well-practiced in the motion, and Anakin was suddenly grateful she’d had so much practice snatching them from him. 

He couldn’t think on that for too long, though, as Maul reached out to take another handful of his shirt, and pull him in close to his face as he jabbed a finger towards Ahsoka behind them.

“Tell your little bitch friend to behave and it’ll only be you who gets his ass dragged out. Palpatine wants to talk with you, and he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” 

Anakin shoved Maul away with a laugh, almost incredulously, and was about one more smart comment away from tackling the bastard before his vision was suddenly filled with the sight of well-defined back muscles clad in a flatteringly tight shirt. 

“Hello there.” Obi-Wan said pleasantly, folding his arms over his chest as he looked down at Maul, who’s snarl only deepened. “To what do we owe the pleasure, Mr. Maul? Are you here to apply again? If that’s the case I’m afraid I must inform you that the position has been filled for some time, now.” 

“Fuck off, Kenobi.” Maul said icily. His posture had stiffened more-so with the proprietor of the Coruscant Skate Temple standing two feet from his face, and behind Obi-Wan, Anakin could feel the tension radiating off his body as he ground his teeth. “This isn’t about you.”

“Oh, are you sure? I only assumed you wanted to get my attention, since you came in apparently for the sole purpose of harassing my employee.” 

Maul’s expression only soured as he looked past Obi-Wan’s shoulder to Anakin standing slightly confusedly behind him. He brought his glare back to Obi-Wan’s eyes. “Palpatine wants to talk with your boy, Kenobi. I’m just here to let him know.” 

“Well you can tell Mr. Palpatine that Anakin doesn’t get off until much later tonight, and I’ll be with him when he leaves. We’re ah, closing. Right, Anakin?” 

And then, like something out of a pulp novel, Obi-Wan reached behind him and took Anakin under his arm casually. 

Obi-Wan was slightly taller than him, but at seventeen, Anakin was already hot on his heels. Just now, however, Anakin was still small enough for Obi-Wan to easily drape his arm behind his neck and leave his hand hanging comfortably off his shoulder. If he stretched his fingers, his thumb might brush against his collar bone, and Anakin was suddenly very unconcerned with the asshole in front of him. 

Behind him, Ahsoka’s jab into his back yanked Anakin back into reality, and he tipped his head to the side with a grin even through the - admittedly ill-timed - fluttering in his stomach. “Right, boss.” 

Maul looked between them, flexing his fists by his side. The crowd around them had nearly tripled in size, eager to see a fight, and he shifted his weight from foot to foot as he glanced around at them before letting his hands fall still. Evidently he could sense that he was, indeed, not amongst friends here. 

“Whatever. Palpatine will be in contact with you, kid.” He spat before turning on his heel and pushing through the crowd. People started to jump out of his way, and soon a path led clear through the Temple to the front doors, and Anakin watched him shove through them hard enough to nearly crack the glass. 

Beside him, Obi-Wan exhaled hard through his nose and withdrew his arm from his shoulder. Anakin stepped back a foot from him, to Ahsoka’s side. His skin tingled under his shirt, and together they watched as the manager of the Temple looked around at the dissipating, disappointed throng of hopeful observers, and finally smiled. 

“Care to stop into the office with me, the both of you? We can chat a little about our mutual friend.” 

“Lovely idea, sir.” Ahsoka said, flipping her hair off her shoulders and taking the lead. 

**Author's Note:**

> please suggest titles to me I am stupid as fuck


End file.
